Sons of war
by Lafenna
Summary: 13 years ago Harry Potter dissapeared and his brother, Dylan, became the boy who lived. But now a mysterious emerald-eyed boy is amongst the Durmstrang students. Question is, who is he? Goblet of Fire AU. DarkGrey-ish!Harry with power.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**This story is an Alternate Universe, another series of "What if" questions asked by me, answered by me. This means Harry will be OOC, because he's not JK Rowling's Harry anymore. He's mine, _again_. This chapter will probably raise more questions than answering them, so if you have any questions PM me or leave a review and I'll answer. Also, things may look a bit _odd _but it will make sense, it does to me. I have some pairings in mind, and will most likely bash some characters. Namely the two youngest Weasleys, and Dumbles will be a tad bit Manipulative and might be bashed as well. Also the Potters (James, Lilly and _Dylan_) will be portrayed the way I feel like. I don't hate James and Lilly, but they're no angels in my story.**

**Also, for those _really _not getting it. Harry will be called _Henry _here, his name has been changed by his _new _parents. And his whole attitude etc is different.**

**This was just a .. _warning _of what is to come. Don't like an AU? Don't read.**

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><p>31st of October 1981.<p>

"Tell me now, Bellatrix, is your talent at warding still as .. sufficient?" a silky voice asked as Voldemort twirled his wand through his fingers with a contemplative look.

"Of course, my lord," Bellatrix breathed, her voice full of adoration for her lord.

"Good, now we know the Potter's location you may proceed with disposing of the wards," Voldemort ordered. Though he was the feared and powerful Dark Lord, the Black family had skills in warding unrivalled by any other man, their ancestral home was more heavily warded than even Hogwarts if their boasting was to be believed.

"Yes, my lord," Bellatrix said as her customary wicked smile fell into place on her thin lips as she wordlessly started to dispel the strong wards surrounding the Potter ancestral home, Potter mansion.

It was mere minutes later that the wards fell, silently not to alert the still sleeping inhabitants of the mansion, and the Dark Lord and his most loyal servant entered. Through the front door, of course, which required another spell as its wards fell too.

They proceeded silently through the empty hallways, knowing just where the youngest Potter child would be thanks to Peter Pettigrew, as they stopped in front of a door. Pushing it open Voldemort allowed a cruel smile to form on his pale lips, intent on showing Dumbledore that he was not ignorant of the prophecy and that the sole person _capable _of even harming him would die. He glanced at Bellatrix, the woman still sporting her own crazed smile as her fingers impatiently tapped her wand, as he entered the room.

The inside of the spacious room was tastelessly decorated in _only _red and gold. It was everywhere and seemed to scream at Voldemort as he focused his red eyes at the crib and the sleeping toddler in it. Dylan Potter, the youngest Potter brat, the one prophesied to _defeat _him. That's when his eyes fell on the shady form stepping in front of the crib as a slightly older boy stood there, arms wide as if to protect his sleeping sibling.

"Go away," the boy said in surprisingly clear English despite his young age as he opened his eyes, displaying marvellous emerald orbs staring impassively back at Voldemort, "You can't touch Dylan."

"Oh boy," Voldemort said silkily as he quickly cast a silent and wandless _silencio_,"I can do _anything _I want."

"Well, you can't have Dylan. I won't let you," the boy said boldly as he glared at Voldemort, it then dawned on the Dark Lord. This was Harry, the three-year old brother of Dylan, born on the very same day. But, the prophesied child had to be _born _when July ended, not have a birthday in that month so that brat was ruled out.

"You insolent little brat!" Bellatrix screeched as she raised her own wand, "_Cruc-"_

Her curse what cut off as Voldemort calmly lowered her wand with his bony fingers as he shook his head. He admired the boy's bravery to a certain degree but he had a job to do. Killing Dylan Potter. So the boy had to go.

So he cast a silent _petrificus totalus _as he froze the boy before taking a step to the side to get a clear view at Dylan. He would kill him later, first was Dylan. The boy was pudgy and had messy black hair. Not at all like his tiny, slender brother. Voldemort raised his wand as he prepared to say the killing curse.

"Avada Kadavra," he said softly as he watched the green light whiz towards the sleeping toddler.

_No! _Harry's young mind screamed as he saw the strange man curse his baby brother, in a burst of overpowered accidental magic and pure willpower he broke free of the petrificus totalus as he jumped in front of the green light. His mind focused solely on protecting his sibling as his magical essence did just that. Protecting Dylan. In a burst of red light the two spells, one intentional the other accidental, collided as they fought.

Voldemort watched the spectacle that took no longer than a few seconds with wide eyes before he felt his soul being ripped from his body as he slowly crumbled to ash as his very own killing curse sprang back at him. What his eyes didn't see was the part of his soul being sucked _into _Harry, leaving a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Bellatrix's response was immediate and praiseworthy as she whipped out her wand to send out a cutting curse at the boy that seemingly _killed _her beloved master. Her mind was raging as she screeched out curse after curse that all seemed to get _absorbed _into the boy's red dome-like shield until it wavered and a stray curse grazed Dylan's cheek, leaving a straight line on it that bled profusely. The boy started to cry as he opened his murky brown eyes and grabbed around with his hands in the empty air. Harry just collapsed, both mentally and magically exhausted.

Bellatrix saw that as her cue to leave, the boy's crying would wear out the silencing charm faster than it could be recast, as a crazy idea hit her. Grabbing the older boy's shoulder roughly she broke the anti-apparition ward, the only that would cause an alarm to go off if broken, and disapparated away with the unconscious boy in her arms.

Seconds later two sleepy-looking adults rushed into the room as they saw the ravage left there and their bleeding son. For a moment James and Lilly Potter didn't notice something else was missing as they worried and fussed over Dylan until they noticed, or rather _didn't _notice, Harry. For weeks the wizarding world would search for the older brother to Dylan Potter, the boy who lived, but to no avail. The boy was gone. But nobody, not even the boy's family, noticed it as they were too wrapped up in Dylan's fame and what it brought.

And days later, as the aurors went to lock up the remaining Death Eaters they were surprised to see the whole Lestrange family had vanished. Gone was their gold from Gringotts and later, as they went to interrogate Walburga Black, they would see that the whole Ancient and Noble family of Black has left England. According to rumours Bellatrix Lestrange née Black had been made head of the family as she was the first in-line before her sisters. And with Andromeda and Sirius disowned and Narcissa married to the head of the Malfoy family the decision was easily made. After all, Rodolphus wasn't first in line to inherit his own title, is brother Rabastan was so there was no scandal because a head _never _married a head or first-in-line. Not that that would have mattered, Bellatrix always had a knack for breaking traditions. By abducting a filthy half-blood for example.

**Thirteen years later**

30th of October 1994

As the doors to the Great Hall opened and Dumbledore welcomed the "Sons of Durmstrang," people were awed by the display. Heavy built boys, not fat but muscled, strode inside with nearly identical stoic faces as their red robes billowed around them. They whirled around heavy staffs as if they were mere sticks as others displayed magnificent acrobatic abilities with ease. At the back a man in white robes walked briskly, a grey goatee on his chin and two boys walking alongside him. While most of the boy's attention was drawn to the heavy built boy with the scowl and the off-set nose the girl's attention was drawn to a different person.

Walking on Karkaroff's right side walked a boy with silky black hair neatly combed back but a little ruffled up at the end. His face was angled with aristocratic cheekbones and a straight nose. His lips were thin and showed an arrogant smirk as his brilliant emerald eyes regarded the Great Hall with boredom. He wasn't tall, a little shorter than average, and wasn't built as bulky as the other students. But what made him stand out wasn't just his looks, no, it was the way he carried himself. He walked like he _owned _the castle and did so without a care in the world. His eyes, though as brilliant as the gemstone they looked like, were cold and impassive.

The boy and the rest of the Durmstrang students went to sit at the Slytherin table, sticking together at the far end of it.

_"They are staring," _the boy with the rather unfortunately-shaped nose said in German as he regarded the silent hall, his scowl ever-present on his face.

_"At you, I suppose," _the regal-looking boy said calmly as he twirled some of the cutlery around in slender fingers with a grimace, _"I dislike their pitiful excuse of silverware."_

As if by magic most of the Durmstrang students whispered the same things, voicing their own dislike of the tableware in a quiet rumble of German.

_"Oh Henry, you are right. This tableware is most displeasing," _a blonde girl purred a few seats away from Henry as she sent him a look from beneath her eyelashes.

_"Veronika, hush!" _the boy next to Henry snapped as he glared at the girl.

_"Jealous, Viktor?" _Veronika taunted gleefully.

"I say we continue this conversation in English, to give the Hogwarts students a chance to overhear our conversation as they so desperately wish," Henry stated dryly as he watched the people staring at them with undisguised curiosity.

People nodded grimly at this as they grimaced, it was no secret. They held no love for England and its magical school. Or Beauxbatons for that matter. After all, anyone at Durmstrang _knew _it was the very best there is on magical schools. Hogwarts was for those with no skill, intelligence or money while Durmstrang housed the best of wizards and witches Europe had to offer.

The meal continued that way, some of the students from Hogwarts desperately trying to gain their attention while the Durmstrang students shovelled their food in. After all, food at Hogwarts wasn't as filling as they wanted it to be. That the skinny girls (and some odd boys) from Beauxbatons found it to heavy was because they just weren't used to food _at all_.

A nearly albino-looking boy kept sneaking glances at Viktor, which meant having to look around Henry which the boy did _not _like.

_"Either you cease twisting your body around mine to see Viktor or I will personally make sure you never regain the ability to use said body," _Henry snarled in German as his emerald eyes filled with disdain, the boy might be a Malfoy (the hair giving it away) and next-in-line to become its head but no man was to annoy Henry.

Dinner ended with the Durmstrang students giving the Malfoy heir pitying glances, as one would to a dead man walking, as they ate their dessert. Afterwards the Hogwarts Headmaster gave a speech and Karkaroff had them march back to the ship. As they exited the room it didn't escape Henry's notice that his sole friend Viktor was sending glances at a rather bushy-haired girl.

"Already fancying one of those English girls, hmmm?" Henry asked rather bored as he ran a hair through his hair, making it messy.

"I haff no idea what you are talking about," Viktor grumbled as his scowl deepened, he never liked being asked personal questions.

"I do, and that's all that matters. Highmaster Karkaroff, I expect to be able to write only praise of our stay at Hogwarts. You would not want my mother to hear anything less than pleasant things, now would you?" Henry said sharply as he cast a terrifying look at their Highmaster.

"Off course not," the man replied hastily as his face paled, "Only pleasant things, you have my approval to do as you wish."

"Excellent," Henry said as he shot the man a charming smile filled with warmth, "I expected no less, now I say let's retire for the night. Tomorrow we shall amaze those Englishmen with our skills." Henry said the last part loudly as cheers went up from the Durmstrang ship, competitiveness and confidence a trait they all shared.

Henry retreated to his quarters after that, he and Viktor having been given one for their stay on the ship. Viktor because the Krum family and the Bulgarian team wanted nothing to happen to their star player and prized son. Henry because Karkaroff feared his mother, his father as well, but his mother the most.

Whilst Henry prepared for bed an old Slytherin was thinking back of the events of the evening. He wasn't surprised with the Beauxbatons students, all they ever learnt was how to perform beauty charms and the occasional transfigure-this-into-a-dress-with-matching-shoes. A worthless bunch, the lot of them, he thought spitefully as he shot a look at the calmly bubbling cauldron in the corner of his quarters. He was Severus Snape, potions master extraordinaire and fulltime hater of children. No, the Beauxbatons students wouldn't be very good champions in the Triwizard Tournament. It was the Durmstrang lot that _scared _the former Death Eater. And he had seen scary, he had watched his _comrades _torture muggles and muggleborns and the occasional halfblood into insanity. But these children were different, not all of them. Goodness no, most of them would be as clueless as the youngest Weasley son. But the two boys so carelessly walking alongside Igor Karkaroff, former Death Eater himself, were what scared him. The bigger one he recognised as Viktor Krum, probably not much of a strategist and more brute force. The smaller one had the look. The look that was _always _evident in one particular family. The Blacks. Even Sirius Black, outcast of the family, had that look, the one that said he _knew _he was better than you. And Severus knew that such a look came from being around others with the same look. His own godson, Draco Malfoy, used to have such a sweet childlike expression that slowly morphed into his father's sneer over the years. But the only two Blacks capable of having children _didn't _have children. At least, he knew Sirius didn't. Bellatrix was a different thing altogether, the woman would rather kill herself than consider having a child. Unless … no, It wasn't possible. Severus dismissed the thought as being a subject to the Potter-Weasley combination for too long, the two idiots would drive anyone, even someone as level-headed as him, crazy over time. So he took a sip of his cold tea as he walked over to his cauldron. The Dark Lord required a specific potion, and he knew better than to disobey him.

The next morning came quickly as the Durmstrang students marched into the Great Hall again, drawing less attention than the evening before as only a few students were eating breakfast at the moment. The group of red robes sat down at the far end of the Slytherin table again, showing they had no intention of _mingling _with any other student. They ate calmly as hushed conversations flowed in between them in German. As other students entered the Hall they were already finished but had to stay seated as per their Higmaster's orders. He had said that if they wished to receive their mail they would have to wait as apparently _everyone _got their mail here at the same time and place. It was a little odd for them but they shrugged it off as weird English habits.

And, as predicted, a massive amount of owls flew in through the door carrying letters to their respective owners or the one the letter was addressed to. Then the cry of a bird rang through the hall as some of the smaller owls started flying erratically before a massive bird made its way to the Slytherin table carrying a letter in his massive claws. As it came closer people recognised it as an eagle, one of the birds _not _allowed to carry letters in England. Mainly because its tendency to eat smaller owls when flying, though there was one family known to use them often though it's illegal. The Blacks.

The eagle flew to Henry as it landed rather ungracefully on the table in front of him, causing several plates and bowls to clatter to the ground as the bird folded his massive wings back together.

"Hades," Henry said fondly as he stroked the bird's feathers as he took the letter from his claws, "Wait for me to respond will you?"

He opened the elaborate waxen seal with ease as his eyes scanned the content of the letter only to see _two _pieces of paper come from the envelope. One folded with Igor Karkaroff written on it and the other addressed to him.

_Dearest Henry,_

_Your father and I have discussed the possibility of your wish to be chosen as the Durmstrang champion. I advise you to seek out Alastor Moody, he is an old_

_**family** friend and is helping the **family**from Hogwarts. He will enter you despite you not being seventeen yet._

_I have managed to secure you some books that ought to secure you the first place. I expect no less. They will arrive in a week._

_Give the other piece of parchment to Karkaroff will you? I will notify him of you being the champion with it, and of the consequences of_

_**not **having you be the champion._

_Do not disappoint us._

_Mother._

Henry smiled earnestly as he reread the contents of his letter, to anyone else it looked like a normal letter sent to a son whose parents had high expectations. But Henry knew better, he was raised to, and he knew just what his mother meant with her letter. After all, how could he disappoint her by _not _knowing?

Henry folded the parchment and stuffed it into his inner robes as he picked up a knife and transfigured it into a quill before transfiguring his empty plate into parchment and a stray piece of bread into ink. It was a flawless show of control as it was done without a wand, or saying an incantation and the few Slytherins close enough to Henry did a double take as they saw him transfiguring the objects.

_Dearest Mother,_

_Thank you for granting me my wish, it means a lot to me. I shall confront this Alastor Moody as you advised me to and read the books._

_Send Father my regards as well, I will not disappoint you. Expect a fully detailed letter after my first challenge._

_Ever faithfully,_

_Your son._

_Henry.  
><em>

Content with his letter he transfigured another plate into an envelope and gently placed the letter inside it before handing it to Hades and, after giving the eagle one last piece of bacon, he send it away. He then rose from his seat and calmly sauntered over to the table where the teachers and the three headmasters of the schools were seated as he approached Karkaroff.

"Highmaster, a letter from my family," Henry said as he handed his pale Highmaster the letter, happy to nearly see the man choke on his drink.

He walked back to the table again and could feel the eyes of some of the teachers drilling holes in his back. He tapped Viktor on his shoulder as he passed him and the slightly older boy caught on immediately and rose from his seat to follow his friend. It was uncommon for only a part of Durmstrang to leave but Henry didn't care, Karkaroff had to speak with the rest of them anyway so he and Viktor could leave and do whatever they wanted to do.

They walked through the seemingly endless halls of the castle as they searched for the library, a pastime they both enjoyed very much. They encountered some latecomers, most of them clad in red and gold, before they found the room they were looking for.  
>Inside they were pleasantly surprised with the huge amount of books awaiting them as walked up to the bookcases and started browsing. It was rather quiet inside, only one other person being in the library and she was sitting by herself reading a heavy tome. Henry noticed with a start that it was the same girl Viktor had been eyeing the evening before and was eyeing now.<p>

Henry slapped the book he was looking at shut and made his way over to the girl as he turned the chair next to her so he could face her before sitting down, startling her.

"Hello," Henry said pleasantly as he saw Viktor's glare from the corner of his eye as the Quidditch player came to hover around them, "May I ask why you are in the library this early? I did not see you at breakfast if I am correct."

The girl glared at him with her brown eyes as she laid her book down, something about Ancient Runes, before responding.

"I eat my breakfast in the kitchen and nobody else thinks the library is worth their time, at least no one in my house does," the girl's voice was angry as she said this.

"Then they are stupid and unworthy of your time," Henry said silkily as he extended his hand, "Henry, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Hermione, pleasure," the girl said curtly as she shook his hand before taking hers back.

"That one over there is Viktor," Henry said, deliberately leaving out his friend's surname, "I think he likes you but didn't want to disturb you. He likes books too."

Hermione's eyes were distrustful as she thought about what her new acquaintance just said, who in his right mind would like _her_? She shot the boy Henry talked about a look and immediately saw him looking away. Odd.

"That's .. err, nice?" she said awkwardly as she opened her book again, they certainly made more sense than boys.

"You should meet, Viktor!" Henry said as he called the other boy over, the librarian shot them a glare from where she sat but didn't comment on Henry's louder-than-allowed voice.

"Hermione, Viktor. Viktor, Hermione," Henry said as he pushed Viktor in the chair he just occupied before walking away, but not before sending Hermione a wink.

He went back and started browsing through the 'Dark Arts' section before coming to a horrifying conclusion. Hogwarts had _no _books on the Dark Arts. Only on defensive and some mildly offensive spells and some basic jinxes and hexes. But no curses, no traps, how could you defend yourself when you don't even know _what _you are defending yourself against? It horrified the boy and made him dislike the Hogwarts curriculum even more. And to think his father wished for him to study here. He, the Durmstrang prodigy, studying in this miserable castle. No way.

He was pleased to notice that Viktor and Hermione were in a rather one-sided discussion when he checked up on them before the bushy-haired witch suddenly jumped up and told Viktor she had classes and would be late if she did not leave _now_. Viktor watched her go and then walked back to Henry.

"Herm-own-ninny is very nice. I haff not enjoyed time with other witch like this," the Bulgarian said as he picked a book from the shelves.

"Good to hear," Henry smiled as he sat down on one of the chairs surrounding the table.

They continued like that, just reading books, until lunch. Where they were stared at some more, before Henry went to see Alastor Moody. _Friend _of the family.

It took him a while, he had to resort to charming girls into telling him where the man was. But it worked. The downside of it was he now had groups of giggling females sending him glances.

He found the man in an office filled with oddities, mirrors showing shady persons and things that kept making sound.

"Alastor Moody," Henry said calmly as he went to sit on the chair by himself, not waiting for an invitation.

"Durmstrang kid, bad lot you there. All learning Dark Arts, death eater spawn-" the man grumbled as his eye kept spinning in its socket. The man certainly looked worn, having scars all over his face and that magical eye of his.

"You may drop the pretences, I know who you are," Henry stated in a boring voice as he twirled his wand around in his fingers, "And you will enter me in the Tournament."

"What!" a higher voice squeaked before the man caught his mistake, "How did you know?" he grumbled.

"Connections," Henry replied vaguely, "I know you are an imposter and-"

Henry flicked his wand with an angry scowl as the Moody-impostor's wand flew to him.

"Cursing me won't help, I'm much too good for that. Now, you will enter my name in the goblet _or _I'll make sure your secret leaks out."

"Fine, fine. Just keep silent okay? I have a mission and-"

"I don't care about your mission. I want to enter the tournament and I will, you'll make sure of that. Won't you?"

Henry threw the wand carelessly on the man's desk as he exited the office, not bothering to wait for a reply as he went to the library to meet up with Viktor again.

Viktor didn't question him when Henry came back, the scowling boy too busy glaring at his fan club evading the library.

They stayed in the library again until dinner where they made sure to be present in the line of Durmstrang students to march to _their _seats. On the way he winked at Hermione again, seeing the girl being seated amongst the red and gold wearing students while they sat with their opposites, the green and silvers.

Henry saw Karkaroff glance at him ever so often during the meal but ignored the man as he ate. And, all too soon, headmaster Dumbledore stood up to announce the Champions as the Goblet Of Fire ignited in purple flames and a single piece of parchment flew out. Henry saw Dumbledore pale as he read the parchment and then the old man's fingers starting shaking slightly in fear. The Hall went silent as they waited for him to speak.

"The Durmstrang champion is-" Dumbledore said in a loud voice as if to mask his former fear.

"Henry Lestrange!"

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><p><strong>Nothing much, except to say TLOTS will be updated but Sons of War demanded my attention. This is quite different from TLOTS so it might not appeal to some, but I try. Also, thanks to a schedule and hobbies and homework and tests I have less time to write. I wrote this yesterday because I was at home, feeling sick. But even my weekends have little to none time to write. Things will get better, but have patience.<strong>

**Thank you for reading and pleace leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**First of all, my excuses for the late update. Secondly, if ANYONE has any questions regarding several things I mentioned in this chapter please don't hesitate to PM me. Some things won't make sense right now but they'll be explained over time. Anyway, enjoy this slightly shorter chapter, I felt it should end otherwise it would just feel like it went on for too long.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

31 October, 1994

Henry rose from his seat with all the grace he could muster as he calmly sauntered past the now silent Dumbledore, then in one wave of red robes the whole Durmstrang group started clapping. Each and every student stood up as they clapped for _their _champion. Some even went as far to hit the table in a upbeat rhythm to show their support. Henry shot them a rare friendly smile as he entered the atrium, not really caring for the rest of the Great Hall.

The moment Dumbledore announced his name every single student, except some of the particularly stoic Slytherins and Ravenclaws and one antisocial bookworm that gave u caring about people three years ago, held their breath. Fearful eyes watched Henry as he walked across the Hall without a care in the world and whispers broke out the moment the door closed behind him.

"A Lestrange!"

"Death Eater!"

"Dark wizard!"

It was Dylan Potter that was the most vocal about his distaste, loudly proclaiming how Bellatrix Lestrange tortured Neville Longbottom's parents into insanity and how he, the Boy Who Lived, would put that 'Death Eater spawn' into his place. He didn't notice the dirty looks the Durmstrang students gave him or the downright pitying glance Karkaroff send his way as he imagined what Henry would do when he heard what the insolent boy said. Nor did Dylan notice Neville's balled fists from under the table as the boy bit his lips, angry at Dylan for so loudly screaming his parent's predicament through the hall.

It was Hermione Granger who just continued reading her book, this time one on Occlumency, without caring. Firstly because she _didn't _give a damn about gossip (even if it's true) and secondly because Henry didn't seem all that bad. And those supposedly loyal and chivalrous Gryffindors had bullied her past being affected by their shouts, she had her books and her knowledge so she'd be fine. Besides, if he didn't kill her for being a filthy mudblood before she doubted he would start now, when _everyone _expected him to. A pity the rest of the Great Hall didn't share that knowledge.

It was Albus Dumbledore that was shocked. The customary twinkle in his eye was gone, replaced by dread and fear as his mind connected the pieces of the puzzle with agonizing speed. He _almost _didn't notice the Goblet Of Fire erupting into flames and choosing the Beauxbatons champion.

"Fleur Delacour!" he bellowed as he read the paper, hearing most of the Great Hall softly applauding at this. It was certainly better than when Henry was chosen though some people continued shouting.

Fleur Delacour made her way to the atrium with a troubled mind, there she was. A 'filthy half breed' forced to be in the same room with the son of England's most radical pureblood supremacists. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most loyal followers. She shuddered as she opened the door but held her head high. The Goblet had chosen her to be Beauxbatons's finest and she would go down with the best fight she could muster. Unless the boy decided to hit her from behind. Then she'd die.

"Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore's voice rang out through the hall as every Hogwarts student and those in Hufflepuff in particular started clapping, a deafening sound resounding through the Hall.

And, just as Diggory left the hall the goblet lit up again. This time the twinkle returned full blast as Dumbledore read the name from the paper.

"Dylan Potter!" he called as the messy haired boy shot up from his seat and loudly proclaimed how he was 'meant to kick that Death Eater's butt' before walking to the atrium while the Gryffindor's loudly cheered.

Inside the golden atrium the atmosphere was tense as Dylan Potter entered. Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory were seated in the cushioned chairs surrounding a table while awkwardly staring at the floor. Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch were busy glaring at Henry. Henry just sneered as he leant against one of the pillars while toying with his wand, the perfect picture of an annoyed pureblood brat when his emerald eyes spotted the fuming Boy Who Lived walking towards him.

"You .. you … filthy dark Death Eater!" Dylan shouted as he drew his wand with fumbling, chubby hands, nearly dropping it in the process.

"I wholeheartedly advice you not to fire any spells at me or-" Henry began calmly though a twitch in his eyes showed his annoyance.

"Expelli-" Dylan shouted as he waved his wand around in circles, looking like an overgrown toddler handling his toys.

"Petrificus Totalus," Henry drawled without really looking shocked as he lazily aimed his wand causing a beam of light to hit Dylan squarely in the chest. Freezing him.

"Dylan Potter, the boy that saved the Philosopher's stone? I read about that in _Die Eule, _lovely story though I can't see you passing _any _of those tests you described in the interview. Nor can I see you catching the 'dangerous criminal' Peter Pettigrew."

"Err, mister Lestrange. Please let mister Potter go or-" Ludo Bagman stuttered as he looked at Henry, though not daring to look him in his bright green eyes.

"I think I prefer _mister Potter _this way, Bagman," Henry said offhandedly though his voice nearly spat out Ludo's surname as he shifted his weight from one leg to another, "The ambiance here is much calmer without his accusations of traipsing around with the Dark Lord's followers."

"You there! You filthy scum! Son of a bloody Death Ea-" a man yelled as he barged through the door in an Auror's robes, others following behind him whilst Dumbledore followed behind. The picture of grandfatherly concern as his eyes twinkled madly.

Henry's bright eyes darkened considerably as his seething glare silenced the black haired man with the brown eyes, it was obvious this was Potter senior. James Potter. War hero extraordinaire and, not to mention, _father _of the Boy Who Just Couldn't Shut Up. For some reason the man seemed oddly familiar, as if he'd seen him before. But Henry brushed it away, the man was of no importance to him. His mother did express a desire to see the man killed, saying she carried a grudge over something but his father told him to pay her no mind. After all, his mother preferred to have most of Britain either killed or tortured into insanity. If she got her way the world would be a considerably less populated place. After all, she hated Hufflepuffs. And Gryffindors. And Ravenclaws. And mudbloods, blood-traitors, aurors, Quidditch-players, redheads, people with oddly shaped noses, twins, people that stutter and so the list goes on.

He even spotted the Alastor Moody impersonator making his way to him, and he had to congratulate the man. His performance was almost flawless as he whipped out his wand and threatened him. Certainly better than the pitiful excuse for acting he'd seen yesterday. The man certainly improved fast. Henry decided against firing any spells, knowing the aurors would see it as an attack and have him locked up before he could say 'Crucio'. It was without a doubt the very first spell he learned, after all. A toddler learns by copying his parents. And his mother favoured screeching "CRUCIO!" at the top of her lungs whenever she felt like doing so. So when little Henry waved his wand and screamed "Crucio! " at his very first house elf for spilling tea on him his mother was in heaven, even going as far as to hug him while crying "You're a Lestrange now". He did throw up all over the carpet after seeing the elf writhing in agony and even offered the poor elf a piece of pie and an apology later on in his room, where no one would see him associating with filthy halfbreeds. Needless to say he was very proficient in the spell, though not being extremely fond of using it. What he still didn't get though was why his mother said 'you're a Lestrange _now_'. He'd been born one? Right? He decided it must be a rite of passage of some sorts, after all it was the blood of his parents that flowed through his veins. Otherwise the mansion and Gringotts vaults would have fried him. Literally.

"Mister Lestrange."

"_Mister Lestrange!_"

Henry snapped out of his musing, eyes widening for a split second as his head snapped to the direction of the voice, wand drawn and a spell on his lips. He refrained from saying it though when he was face to face with Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes?" he asked coolly, emerald eyes drilling into Albus Dumbledore's own blue ones.

"Mister Potter wants you to answer a few of his questions, if you'd go with him he'll-"

"Dumbledore!" Karkaroff roared before being cut off by Henry's glare.

"The British Laws of Magic, act 37. No heir of a magical family may be taken into custody _or _questioning without vocal _and _written permission from his head of house. Breaking this law gives full permission to the _victim _to call out either a personal _blood feud _or to have the whole department face trial against the Wizengamot. As you may know I am heir to both the Black and Lestrange family. One of which is a _Most Ancient and Noble _family and the other _A Most Ancient _one. Remember the Black feud against the Winterblüme family from Germany? They were wiped out. And this law has been here since 1425, if I recall correctly."

James Potter spluttered indignantly and shot a look at Dumbledore, who nodded gravely.

Henry grinned cruelly before continuing, "I did my homework, you have absolutely no reason to _talk with me_, James Potter."

"But you must know where the rest of your bloody Death Eater family is and-"

"The moment you'd enter our house you would know why the Blacks are hailed Britain's best warders."

"Now now, Henry my boy, no reason to get angry," Dumbledore said merrily though his eyes were cold as they stared into Henry's own, "The Triwizard Tournament is all about international cooperation and-"

"Yes yes, I know that. I've read the newspapers, though that Skeeter woman mostly prints gossip, but I am here to win."

Henry glanced around the room, seeing the fearful glances of the Veela-girl and the Hogwarts boy and Potter Senior's angry glare, he pocketed his wand and brushed off his trousers.

"Anyway, I think I have heard enough. Highmaster Karkaroff, if you'd please inform me of the finer details at the ship I will take my leave."

And with that Henry brushed past the stunned, fearful, angry and contemplative persons in the atrium as he re-entered the Great Hall.

Once he closed the big doors behind him he was met with various shouts from the Hogwarts students, the Beauxbatons students preferring to keep a _silent _council.

"Filthy Death-Eater scum! Go back to where you belong!"

"Dylan Potter will kick your ass!"

Henry continued his brisk march through the hall without as much as batting an eyelash, only once nodding at Viktor and the rest of the Durmstrang students as they immediately rose from their seats and fell back behind him. In a row of red robes they exited the Great Hall, screams and threats still being shouted inside before being cut off by the closing of the doors.

* * *

><p>Inside the Durmstrang ship Henry Lestrange, heir to the Lestrange <em>and <em>the Black family, was _not _happy. He was angry, no, he was _furious_. He wanted to break things, people, didn't matter _what _as long as it would break. It was a long time since he had what his mother mockingly called a tantrum, as if he was a _child_. But he was having one right now. How _dare _they? _No one _ever called him _anything_, only Henry. His mother disliked the nickname _Harry _for some reason, none dared to call him that after she hexed a poor woman's leg off for calling him that. But these insolent little _paupers _thought they could slander him _and _his family? Oh yes, Henry Cepheus Lestrange was angry. And so Henry grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and started plotting, writing down his plan both in ink and in his mind before destroying the parchment. Never leave evidence behind.

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger was reading in the deserted common room in what was <em>her <em>chair. No one else sat there, because no one would want to be seen associating with 'the Bushy Beaver' or other names focusing either on her unfortunate hair and teeth. Not that she minded, she stopped caring a _long _time ago. Yes, the house of the Brave and Boisterous had been her one, big mistake. Choosing the house the famous Albus Dumbledore went to. She should have stuck with Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin as the Sorting Hat offered her that one too, but no. She had to be a demanding little brat and insist on Gryffindor.

A sharp tap against the window directly behind her shook her from her inner thoughts, as she turned around to look who would send letters this late. It was an owl, dark brown feathers and yellow eyes staring unblinkingly back at her while his claws kicked sharply against the window. A letter bound to it.

Hermione hastily opened it, letting the bird inside before taking the letter from it. She smoothed out the wrinkled parchment and turned it over, wanting to know who would get a letter at such a late time.

The name on the parchment was hers. Written in a loopy script with red ink _Hermione Granger _was written on the yellow parchment.

The bird flew away after she took the letter, flying off into the night sky, and she absentmindedly closed the window. Not wanting more of the cold night air blowing in.

Hermione carefully unfolded the parchment, wanting to know _who_, except her parents, would send _her _a letter.

_Miss Granger_

_Viktor and I expect to be in the library at around 6 'o clock so I can do some research on several topics._

_Viktor simply wanted a chance to run into you. We would be honoured if you would decide to grace us with your presence, both to entertain Viktor and to possibly assist me in navigating through Hogwarts's extensive library._

_If you feel threatened by the time, location and the fact that it has become apparent who my parents are I will not hold you in any form of disregard if you decide not to come. It would certainly be the safe choice. But, nevertheless, I wish to ensure you we mean no harm. If we did, we would not be constructing such a pitiful setup with such loose ends. You would have been dead already, as would the one we hired to kill you be. _

_A reply will not be necessary, Viktor's owl has probably already left and you are most likely wondering why, as you will either be there or not. No use wasting a parchment telling us yes or no._

_Sincerely,_

_Henry Lestrange._

Hermione read it two times, not entirely sure if it was a joke or not, before deciding to go. After all, it wasn't every day that anyone sent her an invitation to _anything_. Besides, they were right. If they wanted her dead, she wouldn't be alive now.

And with that thought Hermione walked up the stairs to go to bed, checking the wards on both her bed and trunk and setting her alarm clock at 5:30, not wanting to be _fashionably _late.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore sat in his chambers, looking into the fire burning in the fireplace as he took another long swig from his firewhisky. In one day he saw all of his carefully constructed plans crumble and fall apart. One by one. Because of that Lestrange boy. He was no Dylan, he couldn't be carefully moulded into the perfect hero, the boy was not his to control, not even Voldemort's. And that was what scared him, the boy was a blank slate. You write on him, <em>guide <em>him to your beliefs, but someone else could erase your writings and lure him away from you. But that wasn't the problem. Because the boy had already chosen a side. His own. In that way he was grateful for the fact he had been raised by Bellatrix Lestrange, a known psychopath, and probably raised to be the perfect little Slytherin Pureblood heir. Taught to lie and read people, to manipulate them to his will. Taught spells only Bellatrix could perform without ripping her soul to shreds, taught to _kill_. Oh yes, Albus Dumbledore saw it all when the boy walked in. It appeared Bellatrix was a little too good in what she did. Because the boy was probably exactly as she wanted him to be. Sly and cunning, smart and inquisitive. He was most likely a prodigy with the dark arts, a master in reading people's faces but above all he was a Pureblood heir. Taught to get what he wanted, no matter what the cost.

Oh yes. Henry Lestrange was a dangerous new player on the chessboard, one whose moves he could not predict and whose goal he did not know. The boy could turn out harmless, just wanting to participate in the Tournament for the glory and fame it would give him, or he had an ulterior motive. It scared him, he knew what Voldemort wanted. He knew what _he himself _wanted. But he didn't know what the boy wanted. Albus Dumbledore sighed and took another swig from his almost-empty bottle as he leaned further back into his comfortable armchair and stared at the flames again. If he'd known this in advance he would have acted sooner and killed Harry Potter himself. Because just like how Tom Marvolo Riddle became Lord Voldemort, Harry James Potter became Henry Lestrange. And this scared the Leader of the Light more than anyone could have guessed. Because he had seen Tom transform into Voldemort and knew almost exactly what he could do, but Henry Lestrange was an unknown. And now the boy was in Hogwarts, strutting around as if he owned it, dangerously close to the boy Albus helped raise and mould into his perfect little puppet, ahem, hero.

He took another swig and threw the now empty bottle into the flames. Curse you, Harry James Potter, he thought as he closed his eyes with a weary sigh. If you had just died when Voldemort came for your brother, like planned, this wouldn't have happened.

Albus Dumbledore opened his tired blue eyes as he slowly rose from his chair, feeling more like the old man he was than ever, as he went to stand in front of the window overlooking the Forbidden Forest.

"Oh Gellert," he sighed, "if you could see me now. Fighting for the greater good only to see it all potentially go to waste. If only you were here, you would know what to do."

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><p><strong>AN.**

**The Most Ancient and Noble thing comes from someone else's story, I claim no ownership over this name. If anyone has any objections I will remove it.**

**Sorry, again, for the late update. I had lots of tests, some papers and one speech to do for school and seriously needed all the time I could get so, no writing. Anyway, thank you for the massive amount of favs, alerts and hits. And, once again, if you have any questions don't hesitate in asking them. **

**Next update in around three weeks.**


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